The Hero
by JPsmiles
Summary: Face is a hero...but at what cost?
1. Chapter 1

Note: I'm about to break my rule of not starting to post a story until it is completed. I promise that it will be finished at some point for sure…I have trouble leaving things hanging in the air. That being said, my goal is to update at least once a week…maybe more. I just have a feeling that if I don't start posting, I will never get to writing, and I really want to write this one! Hope you enjoy!

Also, this basic story idea was suggested to me…thanks to that individual!

* * *

Face smiled as he passed the little girl blowing bubbles on the sidewalk.

Once he reached his Corvette, he transferred his bag of groceries to one arm and fished for his keys inside his pocket with the other.

A bubble floated past his head and he turned and he turned back to see the blonde giggling hysterically. Face winked at her and that's when he saw it…a red sports car weaving and speeding down the road and headed straight toward the girl. Dropping his bag, he heard a woman scream as he sprinted back and dove with arms outstretched just in the nick of time to push her out of harm's way.

Face, however, was not so lucky. The car struck him from the side and sent him catapulting through the air. He heard another scream before he hit the ground…and then there was nothing.

* * *

Colonel Roderick Decker couldn't believe his luck when he spotted Templeton Peck's white Corvette parked across the street from the diner he and Captain Crane were eating in.

"Looks like we're gonna have to skip the pie, Crane."

"Story of my life," the captain sighed. "What do you want to do?"

"We wait until he comes back and then we follow him. It's too busy an area to try and take him down here."

They exited their booth when they first spotted the well-dressed man. They reached the door just as a red sports car was speeding by. And as they stepped out into the sunlight they watched as Templeton Peck saved a girl's life while possibly ending his own.

"Oh my God," Decker exclaimed as he started sprinting across the street to the scene. "Call for help," he yelled back over his shoulder to Crane.

Decker knelt down next to the still body and put two fingers onto his neck checking for a pulse. This was not the way he was supposed to capture a member of the A-Team.

* * *

_"In breaking news, in what can only be described as a selfless act of heroism, a man saved a six-year old girl's life today by pushing her out of the way of a drunk driver's path of destruction. Sadly, the hero was unable to get out of the way himself and was fatally injured. He was pronounced dead on arrival at an L.A. hospital early this afternoon. In a dramatic twist, the identity of the deceased man had been confirmed to be military fugitive and member of the infamous A-Team, Lieutenant Templeton Peck. He was 34 years old."_

B.A. dropped his wrench and it fell to the ground with a clatter, but he didn't hear anything. He leaned heavily against his van and bowed his head.

* * *

_"In a dramatic twist, the identity of the deceased man had been confirmed to be military fugitive and member of the infamous A-Team, Lieutenant Templeton Peck. He was 34 years old."_

Murdock collapsed onto his bed. He curled into a ball and began to rock back and forth.

* * *

_"In a dramatic twist, the identity of the deceased man had been confirmed to be military fugitive and member of the infamous A-Team, Lieutenant Templeton Peck. He was 34 years old."_

Hannibal stood frozen staring at the TV screen; it couldn't be true. But there behind the reporter on the scene was Face's prized Corvette. Hannibal's knees buckled and he slid to the ground.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

"Templeton Peck came to this church's orphanage when he was about five years old. I say 'about' five, because nobody knows for sure. You see, Templeton was dropped off at our doorstep one evening. Imagine my surprise when I opened up the door to see a beautiful child looking up at me."

Father McGhill paused and cleared his throat, obviously chocked up with emotion.

"Templeton didn't talk much at first…ironic seeing as in the years to come it was hard to get him to be quiet."

Chuckles and smiles filled the church as those who knew Face also knew of his gift of gab. The elderly priest place a hand on top of the wooden casket and continued on.

"He didn't know his name, or his birthday, or where he was from…or if he did he wasn't saying. But he did know how to melt my heart and that is something that never changed. Temp was a good boy…well…most of the time. But even when he was getting into trouble, there was never any malice or ill-intent behind it. He looked out for the other children and in the recent years he has looked out for me. As I look out at all that have gathered here today I see a church filled with those who have been touched in some way by Templeton's life. I see the many children of this parish whom he visited and took under his wing. I see groups of people that he, along with the A-Team, have helped over the years. "

Father McGhill walked over to the pulpit and adjusted the light.

"Three special individuals wanted to be here very badly to pay tribute to their fellow soldier, friend and brother. However, due to circumstances they were unable to join us today."

The priest cast a pointed look out toward the back of the congregation; Decker squirmed under the scrutiny as did Crane who was beside him.

"I will now share the words of Colonel John Smith who wrote this on behalf of himself and his team."

_"Templeton Peck, or as we nicknamed him 'Face', was so much more than his outward appearance would suggest. To the casual observer he was a sharp dresser, a fast talker, and a ladies' man. And, yes, he was all of those things to some extent, but he was so much more. Lieutenant Peck was a soldier and decorated veteran of the Vietnam War. He was a member of the A-Team and provided us with many of the tools we used to help people. He was a good friend, but to us he was also a member of our family who will forever be missed. Now ladies, gentleman, and even Colonel Decker who is the reason we are not in attendance…if you will all rise, the good father is going to recite the words to a very special song."_

Decker gritted his teeth as all eyes looked in his direction. He leaned over and whispered at Crane who was trying desperately not to snicker. "Smith isn't even here and he has managed to get under my skin."

Everybody stood as Father McGhill read the lyrics.

_"You are my sunshine My only sunshine  
You make me happy  
When the skies are grey  
You'll never know dear  
How much I love you  
So please don't take  
My sunshine away_

_The sun went down on Face so that a little girl could bask in that sunshine for many years to come. He is a hero…may he forever rest in peace. Until we meet again, Face, know that we love you."_

An hour later Decker and Crane walked away from the fresh burial site of the cemetery and toward their military vehicle. If looks could kill, they should have been the ones lowered into the ground.

"I can't believe they didn't show up for Peck," the colonel grumbled.

"Smith is no fool, sir."

"I know…but I still can't believe it."

TBC…

Note: thanks to those who noticed that in chapter 1 I wrote "conformed" instead of "confirmed"…ooops!


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe we didn't go to Face's funeral today," Murdock said while keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

Hannibal sighed. "We've been over and over this, captain. It was just too risky."

"But we belonged there...it's not right."

"Ain't nothin' right about Face dyin', but Hannibal know what he talkin' bout."

Murdock looked up at the muscular man and nodded. They were right, of course, but it didn't make it any easier.

They sat in the small one bedroom apartment Hannibal had been renting in order to be close to the set of his new Aquamaniac movie. Each man was by himself when he heard of Face's death, but immediately they came together to mourn. B.A. went straight to the VA and picked up Murdock, and from there they headed to Hannibal's place. Dr. Richter saw to it that his patient was cleared for a week's pass knowing that the best thing for him was to be with his team.

"I just can't believe he's gone," Murdock continued. "I feel like he's going to come walking through that door...like this is all a scam." His voice broke, "God, I'm gonna miss him."

B.A. got off the couch and walked over to where Murdock was seated on the floor. Putting a hand on his shoulder he said gently, "we all are, H.M."

Hannibal tried to swallow past the lump that was forming in his throat. Hearing B.A. call Murdock "H.M" instead of "fool" or "crazy man" was the push that sent him over the edge. He stood and headed for the liquor cabinet and the near full bottle of whiskey he knew was inside. He twisted off the cap and then took a swig of the golden liquid.

Murdock and B.A. shared a worried glance. And when Hannibal followed it up with another large gulp B.A. helped Murdock up and they both walked over to their colonel.

"Hannibal...you okay?" Murdock asked.

"No," Hannibal shook his head. "For all of my stupid plans I've made over the years, I could never have planned for something to hurt as much as this."

B.A. grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward the couch. "C'mon...sit down, man."

Hannibal allowed B.A. to lead him, but he made sure the bottle came along. His voice shook as he said, "I never...I never really told him what he meant...meant to me."

"Neither did I," Murdock agreed sadly. "I mean, I think he knew...But I never said the words." He reached out his hand for the bottle and took a shot.

"I think I spent more time tellin' him what I didn't like about him, than what I did."

Murdock offered the bottle and B.A. accepted. He hadn't had a drink of anything stronger than milk in years and it burned going down, but that didn't stop him from having another.

Murdock smiled slyly. "Do you remember that time when Face took you to get a new wardrobe with Hannibal for that case?"

"Yeah, man...I wanted to kill him." B.A. paled and almost dropped the whiskey. "I didn't...I didn't mean it like that."

"Of course you didn't, B.A." Hannibal's lips curled up at the corners slightly. "And I think it's fair to say we all had moments like that with Face."

They spent the next few hours passing the bottle and reminiscing about Face and the times they had shared together. They laughed and, thanks in part to the effects of the alcohol, they even cried. It was a necessary catharsis and by the time the bottle was empty the trio of men were not only intoxicated, but also spent both physically and emotionally.

"What do we do now?" Murdock slurred.

"Dunno, man. You gotta plan, Han'bal?"

"Told ya before...couldn't plan for this." He lay his head back on the couch and shut his eyes trying to stop his double vision.

"A piece of us is gone. Don't think we can do this...be us...without him."

"Ain't gonna be the same."

Hannibal took a deep breath and said the words they all had been thinking, but were afraid to say out loud. "Without Face, there is no more A-Team."

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Two dazed blue eyes opened and blinked a few times trying to adjust to the florescent lighting of the room. He was alone; the only thing keeping him company was the consistent beeping of various machines connected to his body.

He looked down at his body that was lying flat on the hospital bed and took stock of the damage before him. His right leg was covered in a brace that ran from ankle to mid-thigh. His abdomen was swathed in bandages, as was his right shoulder that was also immobilized by a sling.

Considering how much of his body was obscured in white he was surprised that he wasn't in pain. Actually he wasn't feeling much of anything at all and guessed that it must be due to some pretty heavy painkillers running through his system.

Reaching out with his good arm he lifted the chart attached to the bedrail. He only got as far as reading the name on top before the door opened and in walked a petite blonde nurse.

"Oh…you're awake…how wonderful!"

_'Wonderful? I'm not so sure I agree with that yet.'_

"Don't move…I'll be right back with the doctor."

_'Don't move? I didn't think that was even an option.'_

He fought to keep his eyes open, but the darkness was calling and winning the battle. The last thing he saw before admitting defeat was the return of his perky nurse telling him that the doctor was on his way.

_'Too bad I won't be awake to meet him.'_ And with that thought his eyes stayed shut.

* * *

Decker hung up the car phone. "Head back to base…Peck is awake."

Crane glanced at his commanding officer and opened his mouth only to quickly clamp it shut and turn back to the road.

"You got something to say, captain?"

"Do I have permission to speak freely, sir?"

"As if that has ever stopped you before," Decker replied sarcastically. "Permission granted."

Crane took a deep breath before continuing. "Do you think that we did the right thing? I don't know…it feels…well…wrong."

Decker shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see what's wrong with bringing a military fugitive to justice and then using him to help capture the rest of his team. Don't forget, Crane, that the A-Team were convicted of a serious crime. Peck is no innocent man here."

"I know, colonel. And when you put it like that…"

Decker cut him off. "What other way is there to put it?"

"You faked his death, sir."

"No, not just me. It _was_ my idea, but the general signed off on it."

The idea hadn't come to the colonel right away. It wasn't until they were loading Peck into the back of the military medical vehicle that would transport him to the base infirmary that it popped into his head. Never in a million years did he think the brass would go for it, but to his surprise they did. It seems that Decker wasn't the only person who was growing tired of The A-Team embarrassing them time after time by narrowly escaping capture.

"It makes perfect sense," Decker continued. "Peck's was an orphan and has no family to speak of. That leaves nobody to miss him when he's gone."

Crane narrowed his eyes. "What about that church full of people we just left…especially that old priest? Looked an awful lot to me like he is going to be missed."

"Are you going soft on me, Crane?"

The captain shook his head. "No, sir."

"Good." Decker paused and looked out the passenger side window for a few moments before turning back. "Look…this is the best way. If Smith and Baracus think Peck is dead, they aren't going to be looking for him. The A-Team's strength is how well they work together. Together they are practically unstoppable. But we start to mess with that equation and that strength begins to weaken."

"I guess that makes sense," Crane reasoned. "And Peck _is_ getting top notch medical care."

"Exactly," Decker nodded. "Today may have been a bust, but all we have to do now is be patient and wait for the next opportunity. But first let's go have a chat with the deceased."

TBC…

* * *

Note: I'm not a medical professional nor do I have any military background, so I'll probably be writing some things that aren't realistic. But, hey, that's the beauty of fanfiction and it makes things more fun!


	5. Chapter 5

Face next woke to the sound of voices and a whole lot of pain. Gone was the floating feeling he last remembered, replaced by an intense headache that kept him from even attempting to open his eyes. The entire right side of his body felt as if it were on fire.

He could pick up bits and pieces of the conversation in spite of the daggers shooting through his skull.

_'Fractures in the right femur and tibia…multiple broken ribs…shattered shoulder requiring additional surgeries…head trauma…'_

'That would explain why I feel so bad,' Face thought.

He must have groaned because the next thing he knew his eyelids were being lifted open and a light was assaulting him. This time he was well aware of his groaning as he fought against the awful sensation.

"Can you hear me?" a voice asked.

"Mmm," Face mumbled in response before attempting to open his eyes of his own volition.

"That's it…try to keep those eyes open for me."

Face complied and took in the blurry form of what appeared to be a doctor hovering over him.

"Good…very good. How are you feeling?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was so dry that that it set off a coughing fit instead. Searing pain shot through his broken body with each jag causing tears to roll down his cheeks. Once the fit had died down he felt something cold pressed up to his lips.

"Here…this will help," said the familiar female voice of the nurse.

The ice chips felt like heaven, but they could only go so far to ameliorate the hell he felt elsewhere. He once again had his eyes shut and his teeth were gritted together. 'Oh, God, somebody make this stop.'

God must have been listening to his silent plea, as the doctor began speaking again. "You've been in an accident and suffered some traumatic injuries. I'm going to add something to your IV to help manage the pain, but first I need you to open your eyes again and answer a few questions."

Face complied and was glad to see that at least this time his vision was a bit clearer.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Face blinked a couple of times to be sure before answering in a weak voice, "three."

"Good…good," the physician remarked. "And on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, can you rate you pain level?"

His voice shook as he rasped, "twenty-five."

The doctor frowned. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Better if…I…tell you…where doesn't…hurt."

The doctor nodded at the nurse to go ahead with the medication; his patient was coherent enough to satisfy him that it was safe. "Give this a minute to kick in. It should take the edge off and allow you to rest more comfortably. It will also make you sleepy. Don't fight it…sleep is the best thing for you now. We'll be back in a bit to check on you."

"Thanks," Face said breathlessly as even breathing seemed to hurt.

It wasn't until a short while later when the effects of the drugs allowed him to relax that he first noticed the two other people in the room.

Decker stepped forward. "So…Templeton Peck…at last."

Face looked at the older uniformed man with ice blue eyes and the African-American soldier behind him.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Face looked the smug colonel in the eye and responded, "Yeah…two things: Who are you? And what on earth is a Templeton Peck?" He remembered seeing that at the top of his chart earlier. "Just tell me that isn't my name?"

Decker and Crane looked from the drowsy Face to each other, mouths open in shock.

When he was finally able to speak again, the colonel turned to his captain and ordered, "go get the doc back…it seems he forgot to ask his patient one vital question…if he knew who the hell he was."

TBC…

Sorry about the short chapters, but that's all real life (and my brain) will allow. And a sincere thanks for all those who are reading and reviewing…means a lot!


	6. Chapter 6

"I feel like I'm saying good-bye."

"You are sayin' good-bye, fool…now get outta my van and inside before Richter sends a search party out for ya."

Murdock looked downward at his lap. "No, I mean it feels like we're saying good-bye…for good."

"C'mon, man…that isn't true. Just 'cause we ain't gonna go on missions no more, it don't mean we not gonna stay in touch."

Murdock turned to B.A. with eyes full of hope. "Really?"

The large man was having his doubts as well, but didn't want to admit it. To voice it might actually mean that it was true. "Yes…really."

"But Hannibal said…"

"Hannibal said he needed some space. He hurtin' real bad, you know."

"So are we, B.A," Murdock pointed out.

"Yeah, but Face was like a son to the colonel. They had a real special thing them two. He's like a grievin' father…you gotta give him some time. Plus the colonel ain't used to talkin' about his feelins and things like you are with all that therapy stuff and me with the kids at the center. It's hard for him."

"You're right," Murdock admitted.

"I'm always right…you just too crazy to notice." B.A. was glad to see Murdock break out into a grin. "Trust me on this…we may not be _The A-Team_ any more, but we will always be a team." He paused feeling a bit uncomfortable before adding, "and friends."

"Brothers?" Murdock asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, man…brothers too." B.A. smiled a rare genuine smile. "But _definitely_ from a different mother."

"Oh, I don't know. Your momma once told me she wished her Scooter had a brother…maybe she could adopt me?"

"And maybe I could take that cap off your head and shove it…"

"Okay…okay…point taken," Murdock cut him off with a laugh. It felt good to joke around again, even if they knew it wouldn't last. "On the bright side, it looks like you won't have to be flying with me anymore."

B.A. sobered. "Look, man, if it would bring Face back I would fly with you around the world."

"I know…I know you would," Murdock nodded. Putting his hand on the door handle he sighed, "well…I guess this is it."

"Yeah," B.A. followed with his own sigh. "I guess it is."

"Take care of yourself, big guy."

The pilot was about to open the door when B.A. grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back and into a hug. "You too, fool."

* * *

Decker paced outside Face's room waiting for the doctor to come back out. "I don't know what's taking him so long."

Crane was used to his colonel's impatient nature. "He's probably just being thorough, sir."

"I didn't think being thorough was his strong point considering he never thought to ask Peck if he knew his own name."

Crane's dark complexion paled as he saw the door open and the doctor step out in time to hear those words.

Decker, whose back was now to the door, was oblivious and continued his tirade. "It doesn't take a medical degree to ask a person with a head injury their own name…would have been my first question."

Crane tried to subtly shake his head.

"What?" Decker rolled his eyes. "He's standing right behind me, isn't he?"

"Yes," the doctor responded coldly. "He is."

Decker turned. "Listen, doc…"

"No…you listen, colonel. I have been practicing medicine for probably close to as many years as you have been playing soldier. And in all those years I have never come across a patient with memory loss whose first words to me weren't 'who am I'…so naturally I made an assumption. Unfortunately, it was an incorrect one."

"All right…all right." Decker held his hands in front of him in an 'I surrender' fashion. "Don't get your scrubs up in a bunch."

"And _you," _the physician pointed at Decker, "don't tell me how to do my job."

"Fair enough."

"So you know, Colonel Decker, I'm not exactly thrilled with the situation. Caring for a patient who has already been presumed dead isn't exactly something I'm proud of."

Decker crossed his arms. "And so you know, doctor, you don't have to be thrilled or proud…you just have to follow orders."

"Fair enough."

When Crane saw the two men before him glaring at each other, he stepped in and asked, "So…what about Peck? Will he get his memory back?"

The doctor pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "There is no way of knowing when…or even if…Lieutenant Peck will regain his memory. The important thing for us to do is to let him try to remember on his own and in his own time. Right now, all he knows is that his name is Templeton Peck and we shouldn't fill him in on anything else or we could do more harm than good. Understood?"

"Understood," Decker and Crane answered.

The doctor gave a satisfied nod before turning and walking away.

A mischievous grin made its way to Decker's lips. "Crane…I think we just got our first break."

TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

The middle-aged police officer with brown curly hair and a bulging gut that spilled out over too tight uniform pants approached the impound lot guard.

"Hey, pal, I'm here to pick up a car that was brought in last week."

"Okay, Mac...you got the release papers?"

"Sure do." The officer produced the forms and then smacked his gum loudly while the guard looked them over.

"Oh, yeah...I remember this one. She's a real beaut and in pristine condition too. We don't get many of them like that in here." He leaned forward as if he were sharing a deep secret. "Word is that she belonged to a member of that famous group from Vietnam."

The officer stopped chewing his gum and asked, "The A-Team?"

"Yeah...that's it. The A-Team. The guy that bought the farm died a hero by saving a little girl or something."

"You don't say?" The officer rubbed his moustache as if in thought. "So, do you know where the car is? I'm kinda in a hurry...the Sarge will have my hide if I don't bring her back before the end of his shift."

"Yeah, just sign this release form and gimme a couple of minutes."

An hour later the officer stood next to the white Corvette which was now parked facing a secluded strip of beach. Unbuttoning his shirt he pulled out the padding that was stuffed underneath and sighed with the relief of lightening his load. He then reached up and pulled off the wig that masked his silver hair with one hand while ripping off the cumbersome moustache with the other.

Once the disguise was removed, Hannibal Smith was left.

Hannibal ran his hands over the smooth exterior and thought back to how excited Face was when he first acquired the vehicle. He loved his Vette as it represented so much more than a fancy ride or a higher status symbol. As a child in the orphanage he could only dream of someday owning such a car, but to actually do it was something special.

Hannibal woke up the night before covered in sweat from yet another bad dream and knew he had to get the Corvette out of the impound; it was the least he could do for Face. But knowing that he would never again see his lieutenant come speeding down the road with the top down and music blaring brought the pain back with a vengeance.

He leaned against the frame with both hands and hung his head. "Oh God...what do I do now?"

That's when Hannibal looked inside and noticed a brown paper bag on the passenger side floor. Once he held the bag in his hand and peered inside he broke into a watery grin.

"Cigars...the kid got me my favorite cigars."

He spent the next couple of hours sitting with his back against the car, looking out at the ocean, and smoking Face's final gift.

* * *

'Templeton Peck.'

Face kept repeating that name…his name…over and over to himself hoping that it would somehow trigger something or spark a memory as to who he was. But the more he tried to force himself to remember the worse his already raging headache became.

Face used his good hand and felt along his facial features trying to determine what he might look like, but all he found was that he had the standard parts. His skin appeared to be smooth and wrinkle free so he figured he couldn't be too old, but yet the fact that he was in a hospital surrounded by military personal led him to believe that he was at least legal. He wondered what color hair he had as he encountered the strands sticking out from under the thick white bandage running across his forehead and all the way around his head.

He thought about his family and why they hadn't been to see him or at least inquire as to his well being. Did he have parents, or siblings...or even a wife and children of his own? And if he did, where were they?

He pondered how he could have gotten into the condition he was in. The doctor had said an accident...but what kind? Was it his fault? Was anybody else hurt?

The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn't seem to know much of anything but his name...a name which was odd in of itself...and that he hurt all over.

The pounding and pressure in his skull kept building and building until his head felt like it was going to either fall off or explode. And at this point either one would have been a welcome option if it meant that it would put an end to the agony. Even the dim lighting of the room seemed too bright and he closed his eyes trying to block it out.

Face had a tight grip on the bedrail squeezing it with all his might as he tried to ride out the pain. Then suddenly he felt a hand prying his fingers open and allowing him to hold onto it instead.

TBC…


	8. Chapter 8

"How could Peck having amnesia be considered a break?"

Decker's smile had yet to leave his face. "Think about it, Crane. He doesn't know who he is."

"Um...yeah...but..." The captain paused a moment as it hit him. "Ah...and if he doesn't know who he is, then he doesn't know who _we_ are."

"Bingo! It also means that we don't have to worry about him trying to contact Smith or Baracus."

"But then how does that really help us...aren't we _trying_ to get to them?"

"And how better to do so by turning their own teammate against them and using him to our advantage. Think of Peck as a secret weapon...a blank slate. And we can write on him any way we like."

"The doctor said we should let Peck remember on his own..."

"And I told the good doc that I understood," Decker interjected. "But I didn't say I would listen."

Before Crane could question any further he caught a glimpse of Face through the glass window of the door. "Colonel, I think something's wrong with Peck."

"I think that's a given, captain. You have a gift for stating the obvious."

Crane shook his head and pointed. "No...I mean I think he's in trouble."

Decker turned and saw what Crane was talking about. "Dammit," he cursed as he opened the door and rushed inside.

"Peck, what's the matter?"

There was no response from the clearly distressed lieutenant who was shaking and had a white knuckled grip on the bed rail.

Striding quickly over the Face's side, the colonel reached out and grabbed the trembling hand. "It's okay, Peck. Just squeeze my hand and try to breathe."

A stunned Crane stood frozen a moment before pulling a chair over for Decker to sit in. He then stepped back and watched as his hardened colonel proceeded to speak softly and comfort a man he had been trying to capture for years.

"Breathe...that's it. I know it hurts...but you're gonna be okay."

Decker kept up his gentle patter of words until eventually Face's body relaxed and he was out again. Letting go of the limp hand he remained seated a few minutes just watching him sleep.

"Colonel Decker, sir?" Crane finally questioned unsure as to what he had just witnessed.

Decker stood and motioned his man to follow him out of the room. Once they were in the hallway he said, "I want the A-Team and I will do what I can to get them. But, believe it or not, I'm still a human being under this uniform."

Until that point Crane _hadn't_ really believed it, but he listened quietly as his commanding officer continued.

"Just because I want justice to be served and I want these men behind bars, it doesn't mean I want them physically harmed in the process. No matter what I think of Peck, the fact remains that he was hurt saving a little girl's life and for that he shouldn't suffer."

Throwing Decker's prior words back at him, Crane teased, "Are you going soft on me, colonel?"

"Not a chance," Decker chuckled lightly. With a twinkle in his eyes he added, "I also had an ulterior motive to my kindness. I want to get Peck to trust me and on our side...and I think I just took a giant step in that direction. Now we have some work to do...let's go."

As they exited the building Decker could still feel where Face had been desperately gripping his hand. For that brief time they were no longer fugitive and assailant; they were just two men sharing a deeply personal moment.

Decker shook out his hand...but that moment was gone.

TBC…(I know it's really short...sorry!)


	9. Chapter 9

Exactly three weeks after the accident Face woke up with a searing pain in his shoulder. He thought of mentioning it to Colonel Decker who was once again sitting…actually dozing…by his side. Not wanting to appear weak in front of the man he had come to admire, however, he decided to say nothing and wait for it to pass.

The rest of his body seemed to be healing so much faster; the headaches had lessened in intensity and frequency and he was already receiving physical therapy for his injured leg. He rationalized that he had shattered his shoulder and it was bound to flare up at times and take longer to mend.

He looked over at the softly snoring Decker and thought about how lucky he was to have a man like that in his corner. He had been there every step of the way, talking to him and filling in some details of his still missing memory.

So far Face had learned that he was a 34 year old veteran of the Vietnam War. After the war he remained an active military man and was currently a lieutenant under Colonel Decker and had been for years now. He wasn't married; though the colonel assured him that he had plenty of dates. He had no other family to speak of as his parents had passed away a few years prior and he had no siblings.

Face had also been able to see what he looked like. He supposed he was what most would consider attractive…maybe even handsome. But the first time he had looked into the mirror and saw his sandy blonde hair and blue eyes it felt odd. To look at one's own reflection and not recognize the person staring back was an indescribable and somewhat unsettling experience.

As time passed, instead of the pain in his shoulder passing as he had hoped, it worsened significantly. Face felt as if he were sweltering, but at the same time he seemed to be shivering with chills. Something was definitely wrong and he decided it was time to say something.

"Colonel," Face said in a voice that was almost a whisper. "Colonel…wake up."

Decker shifted and grunted a few times before realizing that he was being spoken to. "Hmm…oh…yeah, what's up, Peck?"

"Colonel…I…um…I'm not feeling so good."

Face's grey pallor and the urgency in his voice told Decker that it wasn't good. "Tell me what you're feeling?"

"Shoulder…hurts bad…feel hot…dizzy." Face closed his eyes and tried to focus on keeping the bed from tilting from side to side.

"Okay, Peck…hang in there. I'm gonna get the doctor."

Thirty minutes and an x-ray later, the doctor stood next to Face's bed and explained his findings to the two men.

"It appears that some bone chips migrated and have caused an infection to set into your shoulder." The physician pointed to some dark spots on the x-ray. "We need to go in and remove the chips and clean out the infection. We are setting up a room and a nurse will be in to prep your for surgery shortly. While we're in there we're hopeful that we can repair any other lingering damage and avoid additional procedures."

The last thing Face remembered before being wheeled into the operating room was Decker giving his good shoulder a pat and telling him that he would see him when he woke up.

But after a successful surgery it wasn't Decker who Face first saw in the recovery room. As he was coming out from under the anesthesia he had a vision of a silver haired man smoking a cigar, a thin man wearing a brown leather bomber jacket and blue cap, and a muscular black man with a strange hair-cut and lots of gold.

Then he opened his eyes and they were gone.

* * *

Father McGhill sat at his desk writing the week's homily when the phone rang.

"Hello," he answered. He could still hear a slight static that had begun a couple of weeks prior and made a mental note to call the phone company.

_"Father McGhill?"_

"Yes, and who may I ask am I speaking to?"

_"Father, my name is Mark Kelly. About a month ago my daughter Dana was almost struck by a car when she was saved by…"_

"Templeton," the father finished for him, his eyes immediately going to the framed picture on the wall of the two of them taken a couple of years prior.

_"Yes. I understand that he used to be an orphan at your parish and that you were very close. My wife Judy and I just wanted to tell you how deeply sorry we are for your loss."_

"Thank you. Templeton was indeed very special to me."

_"He saved our child's life…there are no words to express how deeply grateful we are. He died in order for Dana to live."_

"Tell me…how is the child?"

_"Fine…just fine. The reason I'm calling, father, is that we thought perhaps you would allow us to visit next month? We wanted to do something to honor Mr. Peck."_

"That would be lovely. What did you have in mind?"

_"Maybe you could say a mass and we could plant a tree in his name."_

"What a wonderful idea."

_"Oh, good. Judy and I want Dana to always remember Mr. Peck and his heroic act. We don't want to draw any attention to the visit…there was enough media scrutiny at the time. So we were hoping that we could keep it low key?"_

"Of course. I completely understand." Father Mcghill paused before asking, "Would it be okay if I included a few special friends of Templeton's?

_"You mean the rest of the A-Team?"_

The father hesitated. "Well...um...yes."

_"I'm sorry...it was just that it was all over the papers. Please do ask them...we'd be honored."_

"Good. It's just that they weren't able to attend his funeral and this would be a way for them to perhaps get some closure."

The elderly priest hung up the phone after the final details were set feeling a little lighter than he had before the call. 'Maybe this will help me get more closure as well.'

Wanting to avoid the spotty reception of the rectory phones, he headed off for the payphone down the road to call Hannibal Smith.

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

Hannibal hadn't been surprised when the priest called him. Next to himself, Father McGhill was the closest thing to a father Face had ever had and it stood to reason that they were both going through many of the same emotions. He could hear the pain and weariness in his voice, and wondered if the father could say the same about him.

Hannibal _was_ surprised, however, to hear the reason for the call. On the surface the tribute to Face seemed like a great idea and, after learning that it wasn't being publicized, he immediately said 'yes' to the mass and tree service. He promised to not only attend, but also to say a few words about his lieutenant; to give the eulogy that he hadn't been able to give in person last time.

Father McGhill had been calling from a pay phone and couldn't talk long. So Hannibal wrote down the information, agreed to contact Murdock and B.A., and then hung up.

But later as he sat in the Aquamaniac set trailer the reality began to set in. He wanted to allow himself to grieve for Face but he wasn't sure he was strong enough to fully go there yet, let alone in the presence of others.

It had been four long and lonely weeks. He felt bad that he hadn't once tried to contact B.A. or Murdock, but he didn't think he could face them. It would just serve as another painful reminder that one of them was gone. He knew it wasn't right and that it wasn't fair...but nothing about the situation was either of those things.

At the same time, just like he had owed it to Face to get the Vette back, he owed it to the rest of his men to not completely desert them. Face wouldn't have wanted it that way.

Hannibal took a cigar out of the box and picked up the phone.

* * *

Murdock sat on his bed staring at the same page of the same comic book that he had been staring at for the past thirty minutes. Though it was a warm day, he still had his leather jacket and cap on...Face had given them to him years ago.

Four long weeks had passed since Face's death; two since he had last seen or heard from Hannibal or B.A. He was beginning to think that he was right when he told B.A. it felt like he was saying good-bye. Not only had he lost one of his best friends on that day, he lost the other two as well.

Dr. Richter had been spending a lot of time with him trying to get him to open up and talk, but what was the point? All he had in the world was the team and now that was gone. He was left stuck inside the mental ward of the V.A. hospital with nothing to look forward to.

There would be no marathon phone calls with Face when the voices acted up and he needed somebody to listen. There would be no more missions requiring the con-man to come up with ridiculous scams to break him out. There would be no more jobs that allowed him the opportunity to do something he was legally banned from, but was his passion...flying. There would be no more fighting with the big guy or outrageous plans from Hannibal.

Nothing but endless days of the same thing over and over again. If he wasn't crazy now, he certainly would be soon.

But then the phone rang.

* * *

B.A. was lying underneath the sink in the kitchen of his mother's Chicago apartment. It was nice being around to help his momma and to do the small things that he knew meant so much to her.

B.A. knew he was lucky in that, unlike the other guys, he still had a connection with his family. He often wondered what it must have been like for Face to grow up without that and secretly admired him for not being embittered by it. And now he thought about Hannibal and Murdock and how they were doing on their own. Sure, Murdock had the doctors at the hospital and Hannibal had his acting to fall back on, but it wasn't the same as having family around for support.

That's what the team had provided its members all those years on the run...a family.

It was only a matter of time before he knew he would have to move on; it was too risky staying in any one place for too long. But the thought of leaving his mother again was almost too much to bear. She had been his rock during the past month; a shoulder to lean on and a soft place to fall when the world around him felt too hard. B.A. didn't know what he was going to do or where he was going to go.

But then the phone rang.

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

Captain Crane came bounding down the hospital hall and practically tackled his commanding officer.

"Whoa…where's the fire, captain?"

"No fire yet, sir…but we do have smoke."

"Can we stop talking in riddles please?"

"Sorry, sir. But I think we just got our second break." Crane halted as he realized that Decker was wearing powder blue surgical scrubs. "Um…why are you dressed like that?"

Decker looked down at his attire and shook his head briefly at the memory before looking back up. "Peck had a bad reaction to the anesthesia."

Crane's eyes opened wide. "He didn't?"

"Oh…oh _yes_ he did."

"Peck puked on you?" the captain asked trying to keep the note of laughter out of his voice. Decker nodded in disgust. "And you didn't shoot him?"

"NO…I didn't shoot him. But I might shoot _you_ if you don't wipe that smirk off your face and tell me what you found out."

Crane sobered and cleared his throat. "Of course, colonel. Tapping old Father McGhill's phone worked like a charm."

Decker's smile grew wider by the minute as he listened to the details of the conversation. Slapping his man on the back, he praised, "Nice work, captain."

"So we know where and when we can get the A-Team…but that leaves the how?"

"The 'how' is Peck." Decker rubbed his hands together. "Peck is going to capture the A-Team…he just doesn't know it yet."

* * *

Face lay in the bed with his right shoulder heavily wrapped and an IV in his other arm pumping fluids and antibiotics through his system. He felt awful, his shoulder ached and he was still battling nausea. But the worst of it was that he had been sick all over Colonel Decker.

'Oh God…how humiliating,' he thought. But the colonel hadn't so much as batted an eye; he seemed more concerned with making sure that Face was okay.

Face turned his head toward the window and looked out at the clear blue sky. A plane flew by and he closed his eyes as another picture popped into his head. He saw one of the men he had imagined earlier…the one with the bomber jacket. So focused on trying figuring out who the man was, he didn't notice when Decker and Crane entered to room.

Even though Face's eyes were closed, they could tell he was awake by the deep furrow in his brow.

"Peck…you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Face opened his eyes and turned to the duo who wisely were keeping their distance so to avoid a repeat of the earlier events. "It's just that I think I might be remembering something."

Decker stiffened and tried to maintain his composure. "That's great…what?"

"I've been seeing these three guys in my mind."

Crane just about choked on the gum he was chewing causing Decker to have to pat him on the back a few times to get him breathing again. "Smooth, real smooth," he muttered under his breath. Louder so Face could hear, he asked, "Can you describe these men?"

Face nodded. "One was older with a cigar, one was skinny and wore a brown leather bomber jacket, and one was big and mean looking with a weird hair cut and lots of jewelry." He saw the two men exchange a subtle look, but they said nothing. "What? You know who they are…I can see it in your faces."

'Showtime,' Decker thought. It was the opening he could have only hoped for. Now all they had to do was play their cards right and give the lieutenant the information he asked for…or at least their version of it.

"Look, Peck, it's nothing you need to worry about. You just had surgery…focus on getting some rest and healing."

"Please, colonel," Face pleaded. "I won't be able to rest until I know who those men are." When Decker still looked leery, he added an extra, "please."

Decker sighed with exaggeration on purpose; all part of the act. "Okay, I guess you have the right to know." He turned to Crane, "Go get the file."

The captain's eyebrow's lifted in confusion. "The file?"

"Yes, _the _file," Decker repeated while thinking, 'as in the file we spent the last week doctoring…do I have to spell everything out?'

"Oh, that file. Yes, sir," Crane said and walked from the room. 'I don't know how the guy expects me to keep up with his twisted mind.'

Decker pulled up a chair to Face's bed. "This isn't going to be easy for you to hear, but those three men are the reason why you are lying here today."

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

"What do you mean they are the reason I am here today?"

"Those men were part of your unit in Nam. You were assigned to Colonel John Smith. The skinny man fits the description of Captain H.M. Murdock, a pilot. And Sergeant Bosco Baracus, or B.A., rounds out the group."

Face tried in vain, but those names meant nothing to him. "H.M. and B.A.?" he questioned. "What up with all the initials?"

Decker smiled. "H.M. stands for Howling Mad because the Captain had a reputation for being a bit crazy in the air…and out of it for that matter. B.A. is for Bad Attitude which is self explanatory."

"Just tell me that I wasn't called T.P. That would almost be worse than Templeton."

"No…they called you The Faceman." Decker chuckled as Face groaned. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. It's not my fault you're such a good looking guy," he teased.

"So we have a crazy pilot, an angry sergeant…tell me about Colonel Smith."

"Everybody called him Hannibal after some ancient Roman military commander or something like that. Smith was a loose cannon and didn't like to go by the book."

"But did he get the job done?"

"Yeah and then some," Decker seethed.

Face narrowed his eyes. "And then some?"

"What I mean is that Hannibal and his men were dirty."

"Dirty how?"

"In lots of ways, but the last and worst crime they committed was robbing the Bank of Hanoi."

Face was speechless for a moment, and Decker thought perhaps he was making a mistake in revealing so much. He had decided shortly after the accident that when the time came he would tell the lieutenant the truth, or as much as he could to still work within his plan. That way if he started to remember, his memories would hold enough ring of truth for him to easily be swayed that the rest was true as well. It was a gamble, but the one with the best odds.

"So…how do I fit it?" Face finally asked nervously. "How involved was I?"

This was where it got tricky for the colonel; it left a bad taste in his mouth telling a guilty man that he was innocent. "You were just a kid when you joined Smith…and very green. He was an extremely persuasive man."

"Oh, no," Face paled at the thought of being a part of any wrong doing.

"From what you told me, you weren't involved in anything major and you weren't left with much of a choice. It was when they wanted you to be part of the Hanoi job that you refused and threatened to turn Smith in if he didn't have you transferred." The lies were flowing freely now. "And that's when you joined my unit. I could tell right away that you were a good soldier and I was right."

"But what about…"

Decker headed him off quickly not wanted to have to make up any stories if he didn't have to. "Didn't matter…you were following Smith's orders. As far as I was concerned, it was history."

Face's head began to ache as he took it all in. "I can't believe that I don't remember any of that…and maybe I'm glad I don't."

Decker nodded sympathetically. "Perhaps it is for the best."

"You said before that they were the reason I'm here now…what did you mean by that?"

Leaning forward the colonel looked into Face's eyes. "Are you sure you want me to tell you. I mean are you really sure?"

"I need to know."

"After the war, Smith and Baracus were tried and convicted for the bank job. Shortly after they escaped from a maximum security prison."

"What about Murdock?" Face interrupted.

"I told you that he was crazy, and it turns out he was certifiable. He was institutionalized in a veteran's hospital and has been there ever since."

Decker stopped as he heard Face let out a small moan and grit his teeth.

"Peck?"

"M'okay. Just hurts a bit."

"I'm sure it hurts a lot." Even with all that he was planning, he still didn't like to see the man suffer. Forgetting about the task at hand for a moment he added, "Maybe that's enough for now. Let me get the nurse so she can give you something."

"No," Face quickly answered in a strained yet determined voice. "Not yet at least. Please go on."

"The three of them call themselves the A-Team. Smith and Baracus break Murdock out of the V.A. and they go around causing chaos to this very day."

Decker had always suspected that the captain was a part of the team, though he had yet to be able to prove it. The fact that Face had mentioned having visions of the pilot led him to believe that his suspicions were indeed correct."

Face was breathing harder and had broken out into a sweat, but still he pressed on. "But how does that get me to here?"

"I'm really sorry, Peck, but it was the A-Team that mowed you down in broad daylight leaving you for dead."

"But…but why?"

"Because you know too much. They've been proclaiming their innocence since Nam, but only one person really knows better."

"Me," Face exhaled wearily.

"Yes." Decker ran a hand through his shortly cropped hair. It was time to really bring it home and seal the deal. "But there's more. This isn't the first time they have attempted to kill you."

"I don't know how to tell you this…it was bad enough watching you live through it the first time, but do you remember when I told you that your parents passed away a few years ago?"

A knot formed in Face's stomach as he had a feeling where this was going. "Yeah."

"They were visiting you when the A-Team broke into your barracks. They were gunned down in cold blood…you found their bodies later that night."

Crane walked through the door, file folder in hand, just in time to hear what his colonel had just said. He stared at the older man in disbelief; it was a low blow even for Decker.

Physical pain mixed in with emotional turmoil was too much and Face began to shake uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry, Peck."

Face nodded. "I…I…need to be alone for a while please." He didn't want the men to see him fall apart.

Decker reached out to Crane for the file. "Of course. I'll just leave this here for you on the tray."

"Don't want…to see it…heard enough…all I need to know."

They could see that Face was having a hard time breathing and he looked on the verge of passing out.

"I'll get the nurse to give you something for the pain. Let's go Crane."

But Face doubted there would be anything strong enough to dull this kind of pain.

TBC…


	13. Chapter 13

Murdock came back from his therapy session with Dr. Richter feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

Hannibal's phone call earlier in the day had done wonders to lift his spirits. Just hearing the colonel's voice and knowing that he hadn't been forgotten was enough. But then to find out that in a few weeks he would be reuniting with him and B.A. to finally pay their respects to Face, it gave him a new focus.

Still elated by the phone call, he was able to open up to his doctor for the first time and express his feelings.

_"Faceman got me, doc…he really got me."_

_"Got you?"_

_"Yeah, you know, he understood me. Heck, he understood me at times when even I didn't understand me."_

_"And how did that make you feel?"_

_"Sane."_

_"Care to elaborate on that?"_

_"He didn't treat me like I was crazy…he treated me like I was his friend and he wouldn't want me to be any other way. Does that make sense?"_

_"Perfect sense. And the others?"_

_"Sometimes they treat me like I'm crazy. B.A. calls me 'crazy man' or 'fool' more often than he calls me Murdock."_

_"Does that hurt your feelings?"_

_"No."_

_"No?"_

_"No, because they aren't trying to hurt me or put me down…they're just stating a fact."_

_"Intent aside…it doesn't bother you?"_

_"I know you're trying to shrink my head, doc, but I'm telling you the God's honest truth. It doesn't bother me because they could have let me rot here after Nam, but they didn't…to me that speaks volumes. Plus, while I may be crazy, they are fugitives…I think they have it worse, don't you?"_

_"I'm just here to 'shrink your head', Murdock, I'm not here to pass judgement. So…it's been a month since Lieutenant Peck's unfortunate passing and this is the first time you have spoken more than two words at a time to me. What has brought about this change?"_

_"Hannibal called."_

_"You were afraid he wouldn't?"_

_"Yes. Face was my best friend, but he was like a son to the colonel. It was as if a part of him died when Face did."_

_"What did Colonel Smith want?"_

_"He spoke to a priest that practically raised Face in the orphanage and next month the three of us are going to his parish for a mass and tree planting ceremony."_

_"And how do you feel about that?"_

_"Good…but nervous."_

_"Nervous about paying your respects or about seeing the others."_

_"Both. I'm nervous, but at the same time I know both are necessary. I was crushed when we couldn't go to Face's funeral…we were his family…we belonged there. I need a chance to say good-bye the right way."_

_"Is there a right way?"_

_"Probably not. But there has to be a better way than getting drunk in Hannibal's apartment. And I'm nervous about seeing Hannibal or B.A. because I know that things will never be the same again."_

_"And how do you expect 'things' to be?"_

_"Awkward and strained at first. It's like the four of us formed a complete square, and if you take one of those sides away it falls apart."_

_"Not necessarily, it all depends how you look it at."_

_"What do ya mean, doc?"_

_"You can take those three remaining sides and form a triangle…it's still a solid shape, but just a different one."_

_"Yeah, I guess you're right. I never thought of it that way."_

_"And just because you move on, Murdock, it doesn't mean that you are disrespecting Face."_

_"Then why does it feel that way?"_

_"Because you are still grieving and that is a process that takes a long time. Talking to me like you have today is a big step in the right direction…you can't keep your feelings hidden inside. Face wouldn't have wanted it that way."_

No, Face wouldn't have wanted it that way; he would have wanted Murdock to go on with his life and to be happy.

Face once told him that happiness was a choice. It was right in the very room where he stood now. Face had come to visit after a particularly rough mission involving an orphanage and it had brought up some difficult memories for his friend.

_"How do you do it, Faceman?"_

_"Do what?"_

_"I know you, and by tomorrow I bet you'll be all smiles again."_

_"Probably."_

_"So how do you do that when it's obvious that you're hurting?"_

_"The truth? It will probably be an act for the next few days until the dust starts to settle. But after that it's a choice."_

_"A choice?"_

_"Happiness is a choice, Murdock, and I choose to be happy."_

_"It can't be that simple."_

_"No, it isn't always...but then again being angry or bitter isn't simple either…and frown lines cause wrinkles."_

Murdock smiled at the memory and decided from that moment on he was going to follow Face's advice.

"I choose to be happy," he said out loud to himself. He didn't feel it yet, but in time he was hopeful that the wounds would heal.

A calm and peaceful tribute a few weeks in the future was just what the doctor ordered.

* * *

Roderick Decker leaned heavily against the wall outside of the hospital room. He couldn't get horrified look in Face's eyes out of his mind. He also couldn't help but notice that his captain shifting from side to side uncomfortably.

"Go ahead, Crane, I can tell you want to say something so spit it out."

"All due respect, sir, but don't you think you went a little too far in there?"

"When it comes to getting the A-Team there is no 'too far'."

"You just told Peck that his team killed his parents. Peck never had any parents…what if he remembers that?"

"It was a chance I had to take. I have to make sure that he gets so mad that he will want justice and will do whatever I tell him to get it."

Crane joined his colonel in leaning against the wall. "I don't know…you're messing with a man's life here."

"A convicted fugitive's life," Decker corrected. "Just because the man lying in there doesn't remember what he has done, it doesn't absolve him from doing it."

"Agreed. He did the crime and he should do the time, but did you see what _you _just did to Peck in there?"

Decker sighed, "I did…and don't think for a minute that I enjoyed it." He stepped away from the wall and began to pace. "I've grown to like that man in there. God help me, I've tried not to, but I do. And I'm not enjoying seeing him in pain."

"Can't you see that what you are doing is causing him pain? Not physical, maybe, but pain nonetheless."

Decker stopped and looked at Crane. "I have eyes, captain, of course I see that. But then I stop a moment to think and remember that the version of Templeton Peck lying in that bed doesn't really exist. I remember the Peck that for years, along with Smith and Baracus, has evaded and humiliated me at every chance. I'm doing what I feel needs to be done to bring the A-Team to justice once and for all. Sometimes the end justifies the means." He took a step toward Crane and starred into his eyes. "Now, I need to know…are you with me or do you want out?"

Crane didn't hesitate in his response; despite everything he still looked up to the colonel. "I'm with you, Colonel…you know that."

"Yes, I do." Decker nodded his satisfaction and held out his hand.

Crane shook the outreached hand and smiled, "just remind me to never get on your bad side, sir."

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

Face was like a man possessed at his physical therapy sessions.

He pushed himself to the point of exhaustion and absolute fatigue; lying to the doctors about his discomfort until it was impossible to hide it on his face anymore.

But Face didn't care what the doctors said for now he had a mission. The faster he recovered from his injuries and built up his strength, the faster he could go after the A-Team for what they had done to him and for murdering his parents.

It had been two weeks since Decker had revealed the truth about his past. The initial shock and horror had worn off only to be replaced by an increasing, festering anger.

With each excruciating manipulation of his shoulder or each agonizing attempt at bearing weight and walking on his leg he thought about hunting the men down personally and seeing that they were put away forever.

* * *

Decker watched through the window as the sweat-drenched lieutenant muscled his way through the arduous workout. His plan was working like a charm; there was a fire in Peck's eyes and the unmistakable look of a man scorned. The younger man told him that he was continuing to see flashes from the past. They would appear almost like snapshots, but he was unable to really put anything substantial together.

Decker gave himself a mental pat on the back. Because he had painted such a bad picture, the lieutenant's view of the team was severely skewed. It was as if he was looking through negative tinted glasses. When he saw Smith, Baracus, and Murdock in his mind he saw red and was immediately shut off to any other possibilities.

Face was sitting on a table performing a series of leg lift exercises. All of a sudden Decker noticed the color drain from his previously flushed face and him start to pitch forward. The physical therapist caught him and slowly guided him back down flat onto the table. She grabbed a stethoscope and took a blood pressure and then took hold of his wrist and looked at the clock while counting beats. She headed over to a phone on the wall and started dialing.

"What's going on?" Decker asked as he saw Face's doctor rapidly approaching moments later.

"His pressure and heart rate are off the charts and he's lightheaded...that's all I know."

The physician continued on inside and the colonel couldn't help but notice that his own heart was beating faster and pounding inside his chest.

* * *

"How're you feeling, Peck?"

"Fine."

Decker narrowed his eyes at the curt response from the still too pale man in the bed. "You certainly didn't seem fine an hour ago."

"Just overdid it is all."

"That's what the doctor told me." Decker crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the side. "Now how about you tell me the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been watching you over the past two weeks and, yes, you have been working hard. Probably harder than you should be at this stage of your recovery...but you weren't at your breaking point physically yet today."

Face refused to look at the colonel. "How do you know?"

"Because it all happened too quickly. It was if you had seen a ghost."

"Worse." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I saw Vietnam."

Of all the things Face could have come back with, Decker hadn't anticipated that. He said nothing but waited for the shaken man to continue.

"One minute I was doing leg lifts and then the next minute...bam...I saw all of these awful pictures flashing through my head. It was like watching the most horrific slideshow and not being able to look away. Then it all stopped and the next thing I knew I was lying down and really dizzy."

Decker sank down into a chair feeling a bit dizzy himself. "Damn...that's one thing I wish you didn't have to remember. And I wish I could forget." He meant what he had just said; the war wasn't something he would have wished upon his worst enemy...and that included the A-Team. He also knew that Peck and the others had spent some time in a POW camp and had probably been exposed to things that he could not even imagine, nor did he want to.

Face ever so slowly pushed himself up so he was at an even level with Decker and could look him in the eye. "I'm sorry...I know it isn't probably easy for you to talk about. I'm fine...really...it just took me by surprise."

"Don't apologize. Sometimes the memories still take me by surprise too." Decker mentally cursed himself. 'Why are you opening up Peck of all people? Pull it together, Rod...remember your mission.'

Face made it easy for him when he announced suddenly and very seriously, "I want them, colonel...and I want them bad. I want them to pay."

"I know you do, and so do I. And it just so happens that I have some new for you. We received information as to where Smith, Baracus, and Murdock will be exactly a week from today."

Face sat up a little straighter feeling a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"Crane and I are organizing an operation to go in and take them by surprise." What Face didn't know was that he was to be the surprise to knock them off balance. "So...do you want in?"

The lieutenant's blue eyes darkened. "Yes, sir."

"Do you think you will be physically able?"

"Without a doubt." With the amount of rage inside of him, Face wouldn't be surprised if he could move a mountain to bring down the A-Team.

Decker could see the certainty and the passion. He nodded his satisfaction and stood up. "Okay. Get some rest. Crane and I will be back tomorrow to discuss strategy."

Face stood gingerly, still favoring the one side, but of his own volition. He raised his hand to his forehead and saluted.

Decker returned the salute, before turning with military sharpness and marching out the door. In one week, years of hard work would all pay off and the A-Team would finally get what they had coming. It was so close he could almost taste it. And what made it even sweeter is that they would be done in by one of their own.

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

It was the perfect day; sunny and warm, but without a trace of humidity in the air. It was also the day they were going to plant a tree for Face and mourn his death, while at the same time celebrating his life. They agreed to meet at the rear of the church so they could walk in together as a team.

Hannibal was the first to arrive. He purposely left extra early that morning; as the leader he felt he should be there to greet his men.

'I haven't been there for them in the past weeks, but I need to be there for them now.'

He opened the large wooden doors and walked down the long aisle toward the alter. Bowing down he made the sign of the cross before approaching Father Maghill who was by the lectern organizing his notes.

"Hello, Father."

"John…hello." The elderly priest slowly made his way down the stairs and held out his hand.

Hannibal shook his hand and asked. "How have you been?"

"Oh…fine…just fine," he smiled. "But missing Templeton greatly."

"And how have you been?"

"Fine…just fine. But missing Face greatly," Hannibal answered, returning the priest's previous words.

"Looks like we have something in common then."

Hannibal nodded. "Face would have really appreciated a beautiful day like this," he said wistfully.

"I'm sure he is looking down on us and smiling."

The two men made small talk for a few more minutes before Hannibal excused himself to go back and wait for the others.

Father McGhill figured the teammates would need some time to catch up and thus had prearranged for the Kelly family to meet him in the rectory first. He said a silent prayer that all went smoothly and that all involved parties could find some peace.

* * *

Face sat quietly in the back of the military car listening to Decker and Crane go over the plan one more time. It was a simple plan, one based primarily upon the element of surprise, timing, and a little bit of luck.

Crane had done some scouting work the day prior and had discovered the hole already dug for the tree in a large grassy area behind the church. He also was able to point out a nearby maintenance shed that would provide them ample cover.

"We wait until after they plant the tree to make our move."

"I still don't know why we need to wait."

"We've been over this before, Crane. I'm not about to go into a church and start shooting up things...plus there are too many places they can hide. We need to take advantage of the open space. And by waiting until after the tree is in, there is a better of chance of getting them alone. I don't want to risk innocent civilians getting in the way."

"And what if they are never alone?"

"Then we have no other choice but to move in."

Of course he couldn't say it out loud, but another reason he was hoping to get the A-Team alone was that seeing the priest or the little girl he saved could trigger more memories for Face. As it was, he was having an increasing amount of visions, luckily none of which had done anything to make him doubt Decker's version of events.

Face had asked a few days prior why the A-team was going to be at this particular location. Decker covered by saying that the church had hired their services, but that was all the information they were able to obtain from the wire tap. Seemingly satisfied with the answer, he changed subjects and his focus went back to his part of the mission.

Decker glanced back at Face who was looking more than a little uncomfortable. "How're you holding up, Peck?"

"Fine," he answered. But truthfully, his shoulder and leg were aching from bouncing around in the car for so long.

"Do you know what you have to do?"

"Not only do I know...I look forward to it." And he did, despite his anxiety of facing the men who had taken so much from him.

Crane eyed the lieutenant through his rearview mirror. "Remember, after you get their attention, we'll be right behind you. You'll be fully armed and so will we, so there is nothing you need to worry about."

"Crane's right. Even if Smith and his men are packing, we won't give them the opportunity to get that far. And I have another unit that will be stationed down the road a ways just in case we need it." He paused before adding. "But...we take them in alive...is that understood."

"Unlike those men, colonel, I'm not a killer," Face replied stonily.

"ETA is about ten minutes," Crane announced. "From there we park and walk through a wooded area until we get to the shed. it's the safest way and provides the most coverage."

"Can you leg handle it?"

"Yes, sir."

After seeing Face gut his way through his therapy sessions he had no doubt that the lieutenant was capable. "Good. Let Operation A-Terminate begin."

TBC…


	16. Chapter 16

B.A. was the next of the team to arrive. He pulled into the parking lot and parked beside a familiar car…Face's Corvette.

'I shoulda figured the colonel would get it back,' he thought. 'Face woulda liked that.'

Just as he was about to get out, a car pulled up next to him. He did a double take as he took note of the driver of the luxury vehicle who was rolling down his window.

"Murdock!" he exclaimed.

"That's Dr. Murdock to you, big guy."

"You already talkin' crazy, fool. Where'd you get the ride…and who the heck let you drive it?"

"Dr. Richter. The good doc also snuck me out through the kitchen."

"He sound almost as crazy as you…maybe you rubbin' off on him."

Murdock allowed B.A. to get out first. He was surprised when as soon as he got out, he was pulled into a big hug.

"Ah, so you did miss me, big guy!"

"Yeah…but if you tell anybody else I'll deny it."

The banter was so familiar and comfortable that the pair almost forgot the reason why they were at the church to begin with. But then as they started walking toward the church, Murdock saw Face's car which had been obscured by the van, and froze.

"Hannibal must have brought it." When the pilot said nothing he asked, "You alright, man?"

"Yeah…seeing his car…it just hit me again that he's really gone…you know?"

"Yeah, I know. C'mon...let's go in." He put an arm around the smaller man for support.

"I don't know," Murdock teased trying to lighten things up again. "That's twice you've put your arms on me..."

"I can put my fists on you too."

Some things would never change.

* * *

Hannibal smiled at the sight that greeted him when Murdock and B.A. walked through the double doors side by side. If it weren't for the seriousness of the occasion, he probably would have burst out laughing. B.A. was sporting a navy blue suit similar to the one he was wearing himself. However, instead of a tie, he donned his usual gold. Murdock, on the other hand, was wearing his famous "tuxedo" t-shirt under a sport coat he must have borrowed from his doctor.

"Sergeant...Captain," he greeted his men stiffly. "It's good to see you."

"You too, colonel," Murdock replied in kind while thinking that the older man had aged since he last saw him.

"How you been, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

Hannibal didn't answer right away. He supposed he could say 'fine', but they wouldn't buy it. He could say 'busy', but that was a lie as well...filming on the Aquamaniac wrapped weeks ago. So he settled on the truth, "I've been a jerk."

Both men started to protest, but Hannibal raised a hand to stop them. "Yes, I have. I've been too busy wallowing in my own pity about the loss of one of my men to remember that I still have two others."

"You ain't the only one with a phone, colonel...I coulda called you too."

"Yeah...and I probably wouldn't have answered. Besides, why would you? I seem to recall me telling you both that there was no longer an A-Team."

"Without Face there isn't," Murdock said.

"Maybe not The A-Team, but we are still a team. We need to stick together, especially at difficult times like this. It's what Face would have wanted."

"And what about you, man? What do you want?"

"I want my team back." He shook his head. "No...I want my family back."

Murdock breathed a sigh of relief; all the tension he had feared was gone. "You never lost us."

"Yeah, man...we ain't gonna let you get rid of us that easy."

Hannibal stepped forward and put a hand on each man's shoulder; no more words were needed.

Hannibal, flanked by Murdock and B.A. on either side, led the small procession outside into the bright sunlight.

* * *

The mass had been beautiful, with touching words said by Father McGhill, Hannibal and Mark Kelly. Little Dana and her mother Judy placed a bouquet of flowers and said a prayer by the statue of the Blessed Mother while and Murdock and B.A. brought up the gifts.

The Kelly family paid for the tree as well as a plaque that was inscribed simply with: In Loving Memory of Templeton Peck.

The priest said a blessing over the tree before B.A. moved it into position while Hannibal and Murdock took shovels and filled in the hole with dirt.

"It's a small tree now," Judy said while presenting the plaque to both Father McGhill and Hannibal, "but we plan on taking Dana back here each year so we can honor our hero and watch it grow as we are able to watch her grow thanks to his selfless act."

One final prayer later, the Kelly's said their good-byes and father McGhill excused himself to see them to their car. It was also the perfect excuse for him to get away and allow the trio some time alone.

Their departure was eagerly watched from behind the maintenance shed and would trigger a chain of events that no one...on either side of the shed...could have ever imagined.

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

Face sat with his back against the shed wall after being ordered by Colonel Decker to take some weight off his leg after their walk from the car.

"You rest up...I'll keep watch and let you know when it's go time."

Face nodded, still too winded from the exertion to do much more. He couldn't see anything from his vantage point and could only faintly hear voices, but was unable to make out any words.

Crane knelt down next to Face and offered him some water, which he readily accepted. "Thanks," he said after drinking. "Tell me something…do you have a first name?"

"Listening to the colonel you would think not," the captain smiled. "It's Carl."

"Thanks, Carl."

"You're welcome…uh…Templeton."

Face cringed. "Let's stick with Peck, okay?"

"Deal." The dark skinned man said, "You know, back when I was a kid they used to call me C.C. and it drove me crazy."

"Ah…that's not so bad. At least you remember when you were a kid."

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

Face cut him off. "No, that's okay. I'm sure it will all come back someday."

It was Crane's turn to cringe, but he quickly covered it. "I'm sure it will." With that he rose and headed for Decker who was at the opposite end of the wall. 'And when it does come back it will be from behind bars.'

Crane had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was like watching a scary movie and knowing what was going to happen next. The problem was that he had started to grow attached to one of the unknowing victims. As in the movies, he was unable to yell out and warn of the danger ahead. He had to sit back and watch it unfold before him for two reasons. One…The A-Team, including Peck, deserved to be punished for their crime. And Two…Decker would kill him if he interfered.

"What was that all about?" Decker asked in a hushed tone so Face couldn't hear.

"Nothing, sir."

"It didn't sound like nothing to me…_Carl_."

Crane hung his head. "I was just making conversation."

"Yeah, well, Elvis said it best…a little less conversation, a little more action." And as he peeked around the corner to see the priest leaving with the Kelly family, Decker added. "And now it looks like it's time for that action."

* * *

Hannibal, B.A. and Murdock stood side by side facing the tree...and facing reality.

"It's almost like I can feel Face out here," Murdock said. "It's really strange."

"No, you're really strange, fool...but I know what you mean."

A chill ran down Hannibal's spine. "Yeah...I feel it too."

"Where do you think he is? I've never been real religious, but do you guys believe in an afterlife?"

Hannibal reached for a cigar; the last from the box he found in the Corvette.

"I've never been sure, Murdock. I'd like to think there is and that Face is somewhere watching us today."

They didn't know that he was not only watching them now, but headed in their direction.

* * *

Face stepped out from behind the shed, gun in hand, and started to walk toward the enemy. He was limping slightly and could only manage the weight of a hand gun with his still healing shoulder. The plan was for him to get the team's attention first and distract them and then Decker and Crane would swoop in from either side carrying heavier artillery.

The team had their backs to him and where deep in a conversation. As he got closer the voices got louder until he was able to make out Murdock's words.

"So, what do we do now?"

Face stopped, lifted the gun, and answered, "you put your hands in the air and turn around real slow."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

They knew that voice…but it couldn't be.

And when they turned they definitely knew that face…but again it couldn't be.

Hannibal gasped. "My God."

"Please tell me you see him too," Murdock pleaded.

"I don't believe it," B.A. said. "I just don't believe it."

Face took a step closer to the men. "Surprised to see me?" he seethed.

It was the understatement to end all understatements. In front of them stood Templeton "Faceman" Peck who had been killed close to two months prior. It was so unexpected that at first they didn't even notice that he was dressed in military fatigues and pointing a gun right at them. And when they did notice, it took a backseat to the fact that Face was alive.

Face looked from Smith to Baracus to Murdock. He wanted to look each of them in the eye…to face his demons. The looks of shock he expected…it was the emotions that followed he didn't. For three men who hated him and wanted him dead, they seemed awfully glad to see him alive. 'It's a trick,' he thought. 'They're trying to play me…but it isn't going to work.'

"We thought you were dead, kid," Hannibal said trying hard to keep his voice from shaking.

"You mean that you thought you killed me…don't you, Smith?"

"Thought we killed you?" Hannibal repeated in confusion. 'And Smith?' he thought. 'Face never calls me Smith.'

"Is this some kind of joke, Faceman?"

"Does it look like I'm laughing, Baracus? There's nothing funny about being hit by a car and left to die."

"You can't believe that we would do that…we're your friends, buddy," Murdock tried. "Now why don't you put down that gun?"

Face only gripped the gun tighter. "Friends? You expect me to believe that after you murdered my mother and father?"

Again, Face didn't expect to see what he saw. The men before him looked genuinely horrified. And that horror quickly melted into what looked like concern and compassion. Face could feel a pressure building inside his head; something was very wrong with the situation.

"Face…kid…I don't know who told you that, but it isn't true. It couldn't possibly be true."

"Yeah…and why not?"

"Sweet Jesus," B.A. whispered one of his mother's favorite phrases. "He ain't right in the head…he don't remember us, do he?"

"Why not?" Face demanded again not having heard the sergeant.

"Because…because you never had any parents," Murdock answered gently. "You were an orphan. We are the closest thing you have to a family."

Lies…they were all telling him lies. "No…no…that isn't true. Colonel Decker told me…"

"Decker!" Hannibal spat. "I should have known."

As if on cue, Decker and Crane came out from behind opposing sides of the shed and started for the group with automatic rifles drawn.

But Hannibal ignored them and focused on trying to break through to his lieutenant. "Face, you have to listen to me…"

"No I don't," Face interrupted. "I'm the one holding the gun...I don't have to do anything but make you pay."

"Face…you have it wrong. Maybe you can't remember, but we're on your side. Murdock was right…we're your family."

"Stop calling me Face…that isn't my name. It hasn't been for a very long time." Then why did it somehow feel 'right' when he heard it? The pressure in his head continued to increase and his body was starting to fatigue from standing upright for so long.

Murdock and B.A. kept their eyes trained on Decker and Crane who would be on top of them in just a couple of minutes, while Hannibal gave it one last shot. "Look at this tree…read the plaque. That's why we're here today. To pay tribute to you…our dear friend…who was hit by a drunk driver while pushing a little girl to safety."

Face limped forward a few steps, keeping the barrel of his gun aimed at Hannibal. "In Loving Memory of Templeton Peck," he read out loud. His hand began to shake; nothing was making sense anymore. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around slowly to see the expected…and armed…Decker.

"Rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated, wouldn't you say?" Decker scoffed. "Well, well, well…it looks like the A-Team has been captured once and for all."

Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Looks can be deceiving, Rod."

"Yeah, man," B.A. growled. "We heard that one before."

"Mock me all you want, but the four of you will have to do it from behind bars."

"The four…," Face started as his skin paled. "What…what are you talking about, colonel?"

"Well…you see, Peck…I might have left out a few details over the last couple of months."

"And added some others," Crane finished.

Face stood reeling between the two groups. "I…I don't understand."

"He used you, muchacho. He let us think you were dead and then used you to capture your own team."

Murdock's words hit him hard, but still he couldn't let himself believe it. His own team? It couldn't be true…everything he had come to know had suddenly been flipped upside down. He finally allowed his hand with the gun to fall to his side gritting his teeth against the burning sensation in his shoulder.

Face watched in detachment as Decker made Hannibal, B.A. and Murdock remove their jackets and then had Crane pat them down. "Try anything and Peck here eats it," he threatened. It was mind boggling to Face how the man who had practically nursed him in the hospital was now threatening to kill him.

Hannibal and B.A. each had concealed guns; the colonel's in his waistband and B.A.'s in an ankle holster. They had been so thrown by Face's return from the grave that they hadn't even given them a thought. And now that they had Face back, they certainly weren't going to take any chances in losing him again so they remained passive as they were searched and stripped of their weapons.

Face's skull felt like it was going to explode as his memory struggled to make its way to the surface. It was too much; the physical pain of his injures and the emotional pain of betrayal.

Realizing that Decker forgot to collect his piece, Face did the only thing he could think of to end it all and make the pain go away...he turned his gun on himself.

TBC…


	19. Chapter 19

Murdock saw it first and let out a gasp. "Face…no!"

All eyes turned to the lieutenant. His eyes had taken on a glazed appearance and he was leaning to one side slightly in obvious discomfort. Most disturbing, however, was that he had a gun aimed at his head.

"You don't want to do this, kid," Hannibal said as calmly as he could although on the inside he was shaking.

"Smith is right." It was the one and only time Decker would ever agree with his fellow colonel. "You don't want to do it."

Face couldn't hear anything; the roaring in his ears was too loud. He could feel the cold metal against his throbbing temple, tempting him to just pull the trigger and make it all stop.

"Can you hear me, kid?" Hannibal asked, avoiding calling him Face so as not to escalate the situation.

There was no reply; Face was staring blankly ahead clearly unaware of his surroundings.

"He ain't respondin', man," B.A. stated the obvious. "We gotta bring him outta this."

"What can we do to help?" Decker asked.

"If you want to help, then back off," Hannibal answered honestly.

Decker looked at Crane and just gave a slight nod. Both men lowered their weapons.

The images were assaulting Face at a rapid pace. He closed his eyes willing them to leave him alone, but they kept at him…haunting and taunting him. 'Stop…leave me alone…hurts…please stop,' he screamed on the inside.

Murdock took a step forward. "Let me try to get through to him. He's always been able to do it for me…it's time I returned the favor."

Hannibal nodded his approval. "But don't get any closer."

Murdock began to talk softly and slowly. "We need you to come back to us. You're safe now…everything is going to be just fine."

B.A. saw his chance to disarm the enemy and knew he had to jump on it. Holding his chains against his chest to minimize the noise, he snuck away from Hannibal's side. Decker and Crane were so focused on the dramatic scene before them that they didn't notice the muscle bound man until he was already behind them and snatching the rifles out of their hands.

Decker spun and stared at the sergeant as he removed the ammunition and tossed the worthless weapons aside, but he said nothing. Instead he turned back and listened as Murdock kept up his constant stream of words. Right now the last thing on his mind was capturing the A-Team.

"I know you're scared," Murdock continued, "and I know you've been hurt…but let us help you."

Tears began to seep out from underneath Face's tightly shut eyelids. His entire body was trembling, especially the hand holding the gun. He was breathing hard and sweating profusely; that he was still standing was a wonder.

Murdock kept his voice low and calm even though he could see that Face seemed to be getting worse instead of better. "I know you're in there somewhere…you need to be strong and fight. We'll be there to help you every step of the way."

The audience stood both captivated and terrified; nothing the pilot was saying seemed to be getting through. Hannibal and B.A. felt helpless as they witnessed one teammate trying to with all he had to save another. Decker and Crane wondered how their simple plan took such a drastic, and possibly deadly, turn.

The visions kept coming, but soon they were mixed in with another sound. A voice…a soothing and somewhat familiar voice. Gradually as the images faded out, the voice faded in until he was able to understand the words.

"Please, buddy…please open those eyes."

Face complied with the request and opened his eyes to the same sight as before he shut them, but there was something different now. All attention was focused in his direction and nobody was holding a gun on anybody…except for the gun he was still holding on himself. He brought his still quivering arm down to his side and could almost hear the group sigh in relief.

The adrenaline that had kept him upright was all but gone. The dizziness hit him hard and fast; his body suddenly feeling impossibly heavy.

"Help me," Face whispered as his legs began to buckle.

It all went down so fast, yet seemed to happen in slow motion at the same time.

Face dropped the gun as he started to fall. It hit the ground at the same time as his knees did…and went off.

TBC…


	20. Chapter 20

_Note: I had a question about the Catholic Church and how Decker's actions on Church grounds (i.e. tapping the phone) would be overstepping his bounds (even though it wasn't in the church itself) and could get him in trouble with the Catholic Diocese. For the purposes of this story I'm assuming that Decker thinks that as long as he did nothing inside of the actual church that he isn't committing a sin and it is fair game…and his pursuit of the A-Team trumps all else. I hope this makes some kind of sense…and I hope I haven't offended anybody in any way…it's never my intention._

* * *

The gun went off and Face's eyes opened wide in shock. He clutched at his side before toppling over and curling into a ball.

Mixed shouts of "Face" and "Peck" filled the air as five men on opposite sides of the law rushed forward with one common concern: Face

A crimson stain was spreading out from under his hand that remained glued to his fatigues. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to control the fiery pain.

"Face…let me see," Hannibal ordered as he dropped down at his injured man's side.

"Hurts," Face moaned.

"I know it does, kid, but I need to see how bad it is, okay?"

Face gritted his teeth but allowed Hannibal and Murdock to roll him onto his back. Despite his still jumbled memory and the pain that clouded his already compromised judgment, he felt as if he could trust these men.

"I'm gonna go to the van and get the med kit," B.A. announced before taking off running, his chains jingling all the way.

Murdock pried Face's hand away from the wound. "Just squeeze my hand, okay buddy?"

Hannibal's fingers shook slightly as he unbuttoned Face's shirt. 'Damnit…hasn't he been through enough already?' he thought.

"How bad is it?" Decker asked. He and Crane stood off the side a bit allowing the others room to work.

"The bullet went through," Hannibal reported. "It's not too deep, but it sure is bleeding a lot."

Face was growing paler by the minute and he was shaking fiercely…all signs that he was going into shock.

Crane took off his jacket and balled it up. "Here…you can elevate his legs with this," he offered.

Decker followed in suit and removed his own jacket. "You can use this to put pressure on the wound."

Murdock accepted the jacket with a slight nod of thanks. "Face…I'm going to have to press hard…and it's gonna hurt."

"S'okay," Face rasped out. He tried to be strong, but as soon as the pilot made contact with his side he let out an agonized whimper and promptly passed out.

"Thank God," Hannibal sighed, not wanting to see Face suffer.

* * *

Father McGhill was inside his office when he heard the gunshot.

"What in the heavens?" he exclaimed.

Having just sent off the Kelly family moments prior, he went directly inside the rectory not wanting to intrude on Hannibal, B.A. or Murdock's private moments. But now as he moved down the hall toward the windows that overlooked the newly planted tree, he wondered if that was such a wise idea.

The aging priest gaped at what he saw out of the window. His eyesight wasn't the sharpest these days, but there was no mistaking that there was twice the amount of men there now than there was before…including a man that was lying flat on the ground.

It couldn't be? But, even though he couldn't clearly see who it was, in his heart he could feel it.

"Templeton," he gasped and then forgetting all about his trusty cane, he moved faster than he had in decades.

* * *

Decker was torn as he stared grimly at the A-Team less than a foot away from him. He could easily use the distraction to rearm himself and apprehend the men he had been chasing for years…but he couldn't bring himself to do it. As he watched Hannibal Smith cradling the unconscious blonde man's head, he no longer saw the enemy. Instead he saw a distraught father caring for his injured son.

A man almost died…and that death would be on his hands. The thought was almost too much to bear. He had told Crane on many occasions that he wanted the A-Team at any cost. He had been wrong.

B.A. returned with the medical supplies and joined his teammates on the ground next to their fallen friend.

"How he doin', man?"

"He'll be okay," Murdock answered. "He's alive which is more than we could say an hour ago."

Hannibal's eyes flashed as his attention turned to Decker and Crane, "and is more than I can say for you two when I get through with you. I'm going to tear you apart with my bear hands and then turn whatever is left of you over to B.A."

"And there ain't gonna be anythin' left of you after that," B.A. growled.

"You need to know that I didn't expect any of this to happen…I didn't want Peck, or anybody else for that matter, to get hurt."

"It's a little late for that, don't'cha think?" Murdock spat.

Crane was shifting uncomfortably beside him, but Decker stood his ground. "I was just doing my job."

"And so were we," Hannibal retorted sharply. They all knew he was referring to their last mission in Nam; the one that forever changed the lives of all present and set them on this path. "The difference is that we can sleep at night…can you say the same?"

Decker didn't reply, but after the day's events he doubted he would be able to sleep well for a long time to come.

The team turned their attention back to Face, and Decker did something he never in a million years thought he would do…he walked away.

Crane followed his colonel back in the direction of the shed and hustled to catch up with him.

"We need to alert the back-up car," Decker stated flatly.

The captain's stomach dropped; they were still going to turn the A-Team in. "Sir?"

"We need to alert them to return to base…we're done."

Crane broke out into a grin. "Yes, sir."

The pair walked the rest of the way past the shed, through the trees, and back to the car without saying another word. Once inside Crane got behind the wheel and asked, "Where to, colonel? Back to base?"

Decker shook his head. "No…net yet. First I owe you a piece of pie…Carl. And this time I promise we _will_ stick around long enough for you to eat it."

* * *

Face's head began to toss from side to side in Hannibal's lap and he started to moan softly.

"Shh…it's okay, kid," Hannibal said softly. "You're safe now. You're going to be just fine."

They were all going to be fine; the four of them were back together.

Father McGhill advanced slowly almost afraid it was too good to be true. Once he had convinced himself that he wasn't hallucinating he looked upward and said, "thank you." He reached the group in time to see Face's eyes flutter open and to hear him speak.

Face looked up., "Hannibal?" he whispered. Shifting his gaze to the others he questioned, "Murdock? B.A.?"

"We're here, son…we're all here."

Face smiled weakly. "So am I."

TBC…only one part to go!


	21. Chapter 21

_In breaking news, in what can only be described as a dramatic turn of events, military fugitive and member of the infamous A-Team Lieutenant Templeton Peck, who was pronounced dead close to three months ago, is indeed alive. _

_Lieutenant Peck, in a selfless act of heroism, was believed to have been fatally injured while saving a six-year old girl's life by pushing her out of the way of a drunk driver's path of destruction. It turns out that the 34-year old was badly injured and unable to dispute reports of his demise until recently. Excavation of the gravesite conducted earlier this week has revealed no body…but a casket full of sand bags instead. _

_Reliable sources tell us that Lieutenant Peck has made a full recovery and has been reunited with his teammates. The A-Team has pulled off some amazing feats in the past, but coming back from the dead is downright miraculous. When contacted for a statement the U.S. army had this to say: no comment. Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith issued a statement of his own, "I love it when a plan comes together."_

B.A. dropped his wrench and it fell to the ground with a clatter, but he didn't hear anything…he was too busy laughing.

* * *

_The A-Team has pulled off some amazing feats in the past, but coming back from the dead is downright miraculous. When contacted for a statement the U.S. army had this to say: no comment. Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith issued a statement of his own, "I love it when a plan comes together."_

Murdock collapsed onto his bed. He curled into a ball and began to laugh.

* * *

_The A-Team has pulled off some amazing feats in the past, but coming back from the dead is downright miraculous. When contacted for a statement the U.S. army had this to say: no comment. Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith issued a statement of his own, "I love it when a plan comes together."_

Hannibal stood frozen, staring and smiling at the TV screen; there behind the reporter on the screen was a picture of himself and Face.

Of course, none of the events of the last three months had been planned; Hannibal made the statement purely because he thought Face, Murdock and B.A. would get a kick out of it. He started to chuckle…and maybe he did it for his own benefit as well.

* * *

Face stood in front of what Father McGhill had affectionately begun to call 'Templeton's Tree' trying to get a handle on his emotions. The guys were picking him up soon to begin their first job since he had been injured and he wasn't sure he was ready. Physically, his wounds had healed, but mentally he was still struggling.

When he woke up on the ground after being shot it was all back...he remembered everything. Getting his memory back, however, turned out to be a double edged sword. While his past was no longer a blank, he was forced to revisit a lot of painful memories that in all honesty he could have lived without revisiting.

The first week while he recovered in the church rectory, the pain had distracted him from really dealing with his feelings. But as his body became stronger, so did his guilt. The team never left his side and took care of his every need, which only added to his guilt. They were being so good to him after he had nearly turned them over to the military and cost them their lives as free men. Face hung his head in shame as he walked back toward the brick building.

Face knocked on the office door before entering. "You have a minute, Father?"

Father McGhill smiled. "For you I have many minutes."

"I've come to say good-bye and thank you…the guys will be here any minute."

The priest motioned for the younger man to come inside and have a seat. "I'm certainly going to miss having you around, Templeton."

"And I'm going to miss you too." Face sighed and looked down into his lap.

"What's troubling you, my boy?" the priest asked.

"Oh, nothing. I've just been thinking."

"Uh-oh," the priest teased. "When you were a child and said that I knew I could expect you in confession the next weekend."

Face smiled, but it was forced.

"I know something has been bothering you...please talk to me."

Face's shoulders slumped. "It's just that I don't know how I could have forgotten you or the team the way I did. I said and thought some truly awful things."

"Templeton...nobody blames you...you were hurt."

"I know, but _I_ blame me. I should have seen through Decker's lies."

"And he shouldn't have lied to you. The only thing you are at fault for is for beating yourself up over it."

"In my head I know you're right, but..." Face's voice cracked and he stopped.

"But your heart hasn't caught up yet."

"Yeah." He swiped at his eyes, refusing to let the gathering moisture get any further.

Meanwhile, Hannibal, Murdock and B.A. stood outside the door to Father McGhill's office having overheard part of the conversation.

"I had no idea Face was feeling that way," Hannibal whispered to the others whose stunned expressions reflected the same.

They listened as Face continued opening up to the priest.

"How can I...how can I ever look them in their eyes again?"

"If you look into their eyes I can guarantee that you will not be disappointed. They love you, Templeton."

Hannibal decided it was time to make his move. "He's right, kid," the colonel said while walking into the room followed by his captain and sergeant. "We do."

Face ran a shaky hand through his hair. "How long have you all been listening?"

"Long enough to hear you talkin' nonsense," B.A. groused.

Murdock elbowed B.A. in the ribs then jumped back as the larger man turned and growled at him. When he was a safe distance he said, "What B.A. means is that you are being way too hard on yourself."

"I held a gun on you…I don't think I'm being hard enough."

"Face…what happened before your memory returned doesn't count."

Face stood abruptly looking at Hannibal as if he were about to burst. "Okay…but what about now?"

"What about now, buddy?" Murdock questioned.

"If I'm such a loyal friend then why can't I bring myself to hate Decker?" His hands were balled into tight fists. "I should hate him and be angry about what he did to me, but instead I just feel sad." He paused before adding, "And guilty…so, so guilty."

"Is that what's got you so upset?" Hannibal asked. "Hell, Face…I don't hate Decker either." He turned to the priest, "sorry, Father."

Face's eyes widened. "You don't?"

Hannibal shook his head. "I hate what he did to you…to all of us. Making us think you were dead caused me the hardest time of my life. But in the end he did the right thing. Decker and Crane started to care about you…I could see it in their eyes."

"And he never told anybody where they could find ya while you was recoverin'," B.A. added.

"He also could have let it out about how I'm a member of the team," Murdock added. "But as far as I know he's kept that to himself as well."

Hannibal walked over to Face and put both hands on his shoulders. Face immediately looked away. "Look at me, kid." He waited until Face's blue eyes met his own to continue. "Never apologize for having a heart and caring about people…even those that treat you wrong. It's when you stop caring that I will start to worry. Now…what do you see?"

"What?" Face asked in confusion.

"You're looking in my eyes…the Father guaranteed you wouldn't be disappointed. Are you?"

Face bit his lip and shook his head; all he saw reflected back at him was genuine affection.

Hannibal pulled Face into a hug. "Good…because I have never been disappointed in you, son."

Face collapsed against Hannibal, the term 'son' had been the last straw to break what little composure he had left. Murdock and B.A. joined in what became a group huddle and the quartet remained like that for some time as Face released his built up emotions.

When he had finally regained control of himself, Face stepped back, took a deep breath and said, "My whole life all I wanted was a family. It took losing my memories of all of you to realize that I had one all along…and that I am very blessed.

"If there's one thing I learned through all of this is that you don't appreciate what you have until you wake up one day and it's gone," Hannibal said.

"Yeah…like Murdock's mind," B.A. quipped.

"B.A.'s sense of humor," Murdock retorted.

Hannibal looked at Face. "Those great cigars you got for me."

"My Corvette," Face smiled.

"My favorite orphan." Father McGhill walked over to Face. "Are you ready to join your family now?"

"Yeah…I'm dying to."

The group groaned and Face smiled sheepishly, "Okay…bad choice of words…but I'm ready."

After saying their final good-byes, the reunited A-Team took their usual spots in the van and hit the road. It wasn't more than ten minutes later that they heard the sound of sirens and a voice booming through a blow horn.

"This is Colonel Lynch of the U.S. Army."

"And this is gonna be fun…hit it, B.A."

Hannibal was on the jazz…B.A. was driving…Murdock was playing with Billy….and Face was wearing Armani.

Some things would never change.

The End


End file.
